it's a good thing wake up to these photos

15 things I wish I’d known before starting my studyblr:


You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.


You didn’t know there was such a thing as branded stationery, but heck, there’s a thriving market out there. 


LOOK AT ALL THE APPS. THE ADVICE. The resources! Be wary: sometimes simple is best.


People are going to share their dreams, fears,  doubts, hopes, ambitions and “oh my fuck what the fuck is happening moments” with you. You’re going to learn so much from people you’ve never met; who live half a world away. You’ll learn that exam stress is universal, as are feelings of inadequacy and loneliness and anxiousness. A whole new world will open up to you, one message at a time.


People will take your photos, re upload them, use them without credit. They’re going to delete your captions. It’ll piss you off. Its downright disrespectful. You’ll want to leave. Platitudes like ‘the internet is a free space’ will not dull the swell of anger. But don’t let a few fools ruin a good thing. Remember all the messages of support, the funny tags on the reblogs, the kindness oh god the kindness.


Stand up for yourself. Whether it be your study methods, your study philosophy or your style. Be firm, but respectful.


Sometimes you’ll wake up to messages which will make you cry. You’ve never wanted to move mountains before, you never thought you could have such a visceral reaction to someone else’s problems  - but in that moment you’ll want to cross international borders and give someone a hug. Oceans be damned. 


You’re no hero. You can’t help everyone, and your advice may be useful to some and useless to others. That’s ok. Find your own support network within this huge ass community and make it a positive experience for yourself.


Tumblr’s text formatting is a nightmare.


Be vulnerable. Writing about your personal experiences will be cathartic. Giving advice will be cathartic. In guiding others you will be guiding yourself. In doing so, you’ll need to be brutally honest about your own failures, your own doubts and misgivings. You will feel vulnerable, a twisted form of quid pro quo you’re not sure you love. Share your stories of success, your stories of failure so that others will step forward and share theirs. Cheer at other’s success; lend a shoulder to cry on when they don’t. Reach out and start a dialogue. 


Taking a photo will not dull the pain, or tears. You will still have bad days.


People won’t believe that you use natural lighting. They evidently haven’t spent Summer in Australia before.


The number of notes or reblogs your posts have does not reflect the impact that they have on a person’s life. Who the fuck cares about reblogs when you’re sitting in the exam hall the next morning. 


There’s going to be a pointless debate about 'aesthetic’ vs 'effective studying’ which will make you groan and smack your forehead against the closest wall. And then you’re going to remember livejournal. And then you’re going to feel old.


You’re going to meet people who are kind, lovely, whose opinions differ from yours - and that’s ok. There are going to be people you’ll be able to have long 3am conversations with, whose music library you’ll want to freaking raid, and others whose tags will always brighten your day. There’s going to be people who consistently pop up on your activity feed, shadowing your every move and you’re not sure how to express your appreciation but trust me, they’ll know.

+ You started this project in a midnight ramble not expecting anything out of it. You’re going to be in for one hell of a ride. There is no reason to be afraid.

With love,



This is my 1013 challenge story for @txf-prompt-box. It is 1013 words long. It’s supposed to be a horror story, but I’m not sure if that’s a fitting description. I’m pretty much done for fiction this weekend so I hope you enjoy it. See you on the other side.

Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober

The word shatters in the frigid air. Her gun feels like ice in her hand. Her fingertips are purple. The lake is a frosted blue stain in the white-green field. The man holds the child by her ponytail and her cheeks are daubed with red-raw fear. Scully notices the colour. Blood blooms under her skin in an otherwise monotone scape.

                “Freeze,” she repeats and something in her wants to giggle at the absurdity. She presses her lips together and steadies her aim. “FBI. Let her go, Mr Carbone. Don’t let this end badly.”

The snow started as soon as they got to the house. It had been ten degrees and bright skied at the airport but turning into the driveway of the Carbone family home, fat chunks of snow had settled on the windshield and flakes collected into a thick white line before being spread across the glass on the wiper blades.

                “It’s October, Scully.”

                She sighed as they pulled up. “And it’s snowed in Hawaii in June before, Mulder.”

Mela Carbone was a thin, cold woman. Fitting really, as the temperature inside the house was near freezing. Scully pulled her jacket round her but her skin was already wrinkling and she felt a drop of moisture form at the end of her nose.

                “We’ve had reports of strange phenomena here. Deaths.”

                “You’ll have to wait for my husband to get back,” she said. “Charlotte, take that thing out of here.”

                A white rabbit nestled in the crook of a small girl’s arm, its red eyes half-closed. Charlotte, pale like her mother, stared at them.

                “Charlotte? That’s a nice name,” Scully said, kneeling. “What’s your rabbit called?”

                “She calls him Nix.”

                “The Latin word for snow,” Mulder said.

                “I don’t know where she gets this stuff from. She never talks to anyone or goes anywhere but she knows things. Strange things.” Mela Carbone shivered and pulled a pair of mugs from a tree. “I make good coffee. Want one?”

                Scully nodded her head and watched Charlotte walk up the stairs to the house. A layer of silvery dust lay on the banister rail. The child stopped mid-way and turned to smile. Scully felt gooseflesh prickle her skin.

                “Who’s this in the photo with Charlotte?” Mulder was holding a silver-framed photo. A mahogany line left in its wake on the dusty sideboard.

                The kettle squealed. Mela Carbone snatched it from him and slammed it back in its place. “You should wait until Anthony comes back.”

The sofa was worn and cool. Scully sipped her coffee to keep warm. Her nose ran and she fished a tissue out of her bag. Mulder wouldn’t sit, pacing the room. Mela Carbone busied herself in the kitchen.

He motioned for her to come over. “This isn’t dust,” he said. The tip of his finger held the lightest crackling of ice. “It’s frost.”

She looked around. “This whole place is frozen from the inside.”

Scully frowned. The report had been bizarre. Several suspicious deaths in the town, including a child at the school, where Anthony Carbone was principal. All died of hypothermia.

“We need to speak to the child,” Mulder said, looking across at Mela Carbone. “I’ll distract her, you go to upstairs.”

She could hear Mulder’s voice rise and fall as she knocked lightly at Charlotte’s door. The wood was cool and the paint splintered off. She could see her breath in front of her as she entered. Charlotte was sitting on the floor, holding the rabbit.

              “Hi. Can I talk to you?” Charlotte shrugged. Scully heard a car crunching over the gravel driveway. “That might be your Daddy.”

              The girl stood, hoisting Nix over her shoulder. Her face paled even more, her blue eyes widening.

              “What is it? What’s the matter, Charlotte?”

              As the girl ran past, Scully heard the name ‘Eric’ and felt the blast of frozen air chill her to the bone.

              Mela Carbone dropped the packet of flour she was holding and it thudded to the floor scattering it over the boards. “Charlotte! Come back!”

Mulder was quicker than her over the frozen ground outside. The grass crunched under her feet and the snow pelted her skin, pricking her face. Charlotte was fast, ducking around the familiar furniture in the yard. She headed to the fields beyond, fading into the whiteness.

              Carbone fired. The bullet caught Mulder in the upper right arm and he dropped, crimson spilling onto the white. Scully knelt.

He gritted his teeth, yanking off his tie. She bound it round his arm. “Go.”

She looked to see Carbone grab Charlotte.

She presses her lips together and steadies her aim. “FBI. Let her go, Mr Carbone. Don’t let this end badly.”

              “Eric is here,” he says.

              “Who’s Eric?”

              Charlotte cries. Nix is still in her arms.

              “He’s evil.” Carbone says. He’s edging back towards the lake. “He wouldn’t stay dead.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “He drowned under the ice. But he came back. He keeps coming back.”

              Scully frowns, regripping the gun. “Where is he?”

              Carbone nods behind him. “Everything he touches freezes.”

              The snow thickens but Scully sees the shadow through it.

              “No, Eric!” Charlotte screams and lets go of the rabbit. Its stiff body drops to the ground, lifeless.

              Wriggling in her father’s arms, Charlotte dislodges herself. Carbone loses his balance, tumbling back, his gun firing into the air. He falls into the lake, disappearing under the ice, resurfacing only to be taken under again by an arm.

Mulder staggers to Scully’s side, clutching his shoulder. Charlotte wails over the dead rabbit. Mela arrives. “Where’s Anthony?”

Scully shakes her head.

Scully closes the door to Charlotte’s room and looks through the window. She’s clutching the plush rabbit the ER nurse found for her, her mother by her side.

              “She’s fine, Mulder.”

              He pockets his phone. “They pulled two bodies from the lake.”

              “Anthony and Eric Carbone?”

              “Eric’s body is perfectly preserved, according to Police Chief. Yet he drowned two years ago.”

              “About when the deaths started.”

              She nods. “And when Charlotte told her mother about her father’s abuse.”

I can’t stop looking at this photo

I want to hang it on my fucking ceiling.

I want it to be the first thing I see when I wake up every day, and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. I want to say good morning and goodnight to it.

I want to take it on a date. Buy it dinner and ask it about its life.

I want to carry it around like my newborn child, showing it off to my friends and family.

I want to put it in the passenger seat so I can ride in the HOV lane with it.

I want it plastered on my tombstone.

“Here lies Katherine. Killed by those lips and those teeth and those heavy-lidded eyes and that sexy fucking hair.”

Goodmorning all! Rise and shine, i just finished my thursday morning workout that has been rare lately! GRIT class followed by a core class! Its an overcast rainy day here today but that doesn’t matter, today will still be amazing 💕(This photo was taken yesterday by the way, hence the good weather in this photo). Anyhow, Summer is on the way here in Australia which means amazing fruits, sunny days, tanned and glowy skin, warmer waters and most importantly LONGER days-my favourite part! Waking up in the morning and its already bright and sunny at 5am is seriously one of my favourite things and not getting dark until after 6pm. I know a lot of you struggle to get out of bed early and make it a habit, but with earlier sunny mornings its a whole lot easier! As soon as your alarm clock goes off, your day starts…Will you press snooze and waste part of your day or get up and make the most of it? Getting up early to workout, get that extra bit of study in, having time to make a healthy breakfast, choosing your favourite outfit to wear, preparing your lunch for the day or anything else you can do whilst getting up early with no rush in the morning can make a HUGE difference on your day, mindset and health. Get up and get things done! That’s the mindset you need if you want to achieve the goals you are aiming for, wether that is to get fitter, healthier, stronger, smarter, better grades, promotion at your job, be happier, have a bit more ‘you’ time. Whatever it is, if you want it, you have to work for it! HAVE AN AMAZING DAY MY LOVELIES!
Instagram: @fit_healthy_you